WHO THE CRAZY MAN WAS.
Our fellows were highly excited at the prospect of a contest with
Tommy Toppleton and his minions. We believed that we had the right of
way--that the track belonged to us; and the question was, which of us
should “switch off.” Our present plan provided against the perils of
starvation, and everybody was good natured.
“This does not look much like a prize drill on Friday--does it,
Skotchley?” asked Briscoe, as we sat on the fence, waiting for the
return of our commissary.
“Not much.”
“We can’t get round the lake by Friday, if we fool away our time in
this manner.”
“If we are behind time, we can take one of the steamers down the lake.
But I am more afraid the battalion will be broken up before Friday, by
Tommy’s obstinacy. If he don’t come to terms--”
“What terms?” asked Briscoe, laughing.
“I don’t know,” I replied, “on precisely what terms we are to make
peace; but we are to have a new major, and for one, I will no longer
submit to Tommy’s tyranny.”
“So say we all of us.”
“You will be chosen major, if we have a fair election; and if we don’t
have a fair one, we will not submit to it.”
“Things look decidedly squally,” added Briscoe.
“That’s true; but if we can make our fellows stick, it will come out
all right.”
“O, they will stick. We have all the best fellows of the Institute on
our side.”
“They haven’t any tyrant on the other side of the lake now.”
“No. Isn’t it odd? They say Waddie is a real gentlemen. He don’t put on
airs, and don’t even get mad.”
“Wolf Penniman converted him. It’s a great pity he can’t convert his
father.”
“So it is; but I think we should be satisfied, on our side, if Tommy
Toppleton could be converted into a decent fellow, though it won’t be
our fault if he is not.”
“That’s so,” laughed Briscoe. “I suppose it would not be very hard for
some of us to get transferred to the Wimpleton Institute, after the
summer vacation, if things don’t go right on this side.”
“My father and Major Toppleton are old friends and I found it rather
hard for me to get away,” I added. “But I hope Tommy will switch off,
and get on the other track.”
“I hope so. What’s that?” exclaimed Briscoe, pointing up to the chimney
of the farm-house nearest to us. “Isn’t it smoke?”
“Yes, it is, as true as you live!” I replied, excited by the sudden
prospect of another fire.
The old farmer and his family were still at work in the kitchen,
cleaning out the wreck of the fire. After examining the casing of the
chimney in the house, I had been fearful that some sparks had been
drawn up into the wood-work above. If I had been permitted to look into
the attic chamber where the crazy man lived, I could have determined
whether there was any fire there or not. I doubt whether Jed went in at
all.
“We must go to work again, Briscoe,” I added, waiting for him, as my
senior officer to give me orders.
“You look out for the inside, and I will see that the water is passed
up to you.”
Taking Langdon and Dunbold with me, I ran into the kitchen, and told
the people that the house was on fire near the roof. I did not wait
to ask permission, but rushed up stairs, followed by my companions.
I looked into the chamber where we had worked before, but there was
no fire there. I ascended to the attic. The door of the crazy man’s
chamber was still fastened. It was possible that he was not yet aware
of the presence of the devouring element so near him. Indeed, the smoke
we had seen outside was so slight as hardly to attract our notice.
“Fire! Fire!” I shouted, pounding vigorously upon the door.
The crazy man took no notice of us, and I repeated the warning
demonstration. By this time the old farmer had made his way up stairs.
He rapped on the door several times, with no better success than had
attended my appeal.
“Open the door,” said the farmer. “The house is afire up here
somewhere.”
“No fire in here,” replied the occupant of the room.
“Perhaps it’s outside,” suggested the old man, as he looked up to a
scuttle in the roof, which I had not before noticed. “If one or two of
you would go on the roof, you could see just where it is.”
Corporal Dunbold, who was distinguished as a gymnast, offered to render
this service. Placing a flour barrel on an old table, he reached the
scuttle, opened it, and went out upon the roof. Sergeant Langdon
followed him.
“If the house is on fire, you ought to get this man out,” I suggested
to the farmer.
“I suppose so. I must break the door down. He’s very obstinate. You run
down and get me the axe, and I’ll break in the door.”
I ran down stairs to the room below, where Jed had left the axe with
which we had cut through the floor. When I was half way up the stairs
on my return, I heard the door of the crazy man’s chamber open. Somehow
I was not afraid of him, though I had been told that the sight of
strangers made him violent. I reached the top of the stairs just as he
came out of the room. The farmer was hurrying him towards the apartment
on the other side of the entry; but I met him face to face.
The crazy man was Christy Holgate, who had robbed Wolf Penniman’s
father of twenty-four hundred dollars!
I saw him and recognized him, though he had grown very thin and pale
since I had last seen him more than a year before, on the steamer.
Of course I was astonished at the sight of him, for it was generally
believed in Middleport that the robber had fled to the South. For
the moment, I forgot that I was looking for the fire; but the farmer
hurried Christy into the other chamber, and presently joined me at the
head of the stairs.
“Do you find any fire?” he asked anxiously.
“Not yet,” I replied, leading the way into the crazy man’s chamber.
“There isn’t any fire here,” said the farmer. “I think it’s a false
alarm.”
“We certainly saw some smoke rising from the roof near the chimney, on
the outside.”
I put my hand upon the casing of the chimney. It was quite hot, and I
was satisfied that it was not a false alarm. It was plain enough that
the farmer’s house would soon be enveloped in flames if the fire was
not reached and checked. By this time, Briscoe had raised a long ladder
to the attic window. Dunbold reported that the smoke was coming out
through the cracks around the chimney.
“Pass up the water, fellows!” I called at the open window.
The boys were already on the ladder; and as soon as I had a couple
of buckets of water in the room, I directed the farmer to cut away
the casing of the chimney; for I did not deem it prudent to admit the
air till we were ready to fight the flames. He promptly struck a few
vigorous blows with the axe, and down came the boards, charred on the
inside by the fire. A few pails of water finished the work, though
we did not leave the place till we had drenched the roof around the
chimney. We poured in water till there was no longer any possibility of
a secret spark doing any mischief.
The farmer, who seemed to take a more Christian view of our relations
than his son did, was very grateful to us for the service we had
rendered. He offered to give us all a dinner if we would wait long
enough for his “women folks” to cook it. As we were in no particular
hurry, we accepted the invitation. The old lady and Clarissa--who was
a neighbor for whom Jed had a particular regard--went to work, boiling
potatoes and frying bacon, at the stove in the midst of the ruins of
the kitchen.
“Your man up stairs don’t seem to be very crazy,” said I to the farmer,
while we were waiting.
“Only when he sees strangers.”
“Why don’t you send him to an asylum?”
“Well, he don’t give us any trouble. When no one but our own folks
are here he comes down to his meals. Besides, he’s my wife’s brother.
He had some trouble a while ago, and that rather turned his head. He
thinks somebody is after him all the time.”
I did not wonder at this, for somebody had been after him for weeks
or months after he committed his crime. Wolf’s father had been
his best friend; and, while the steamer, of which Christy was the
engineer, was lying at the wharf in Ucayga, he had taken Mr. Penniman’s
pocket-book from him. When he was discovered, he attempted to escape
on a locomotive; but Wolf jumped on with him, and by the aid of a
pistol he had taken from Waddie Wimpleton, compelled him to give up the
pocket-book. He gave it up; but he had taken the twenty-four hundred
dollars from it. He took to the woods, and the sheriffs could not find
him. Probably he had been concealed all this time at his sister’s
house. I wondered where the money was, the loss of which had nearly
ruined Wolf’s father.
I did not deem it wise to inform the farmer that I had recognized
Christy in the crazy man. It was possible that a portion of the money
might yet be recovered, and persons more skilled than I was in such
matters ought to manage the case. Wolf’s steamer touched at Priam,
which lay in our route, and I decided, if I could not see “the young
captain” there, to leave a note for him.
It was nearly twelve o’clock when Jed and Faxon returned with the wagon
well loaded with provisions, such as crackers, shipbread, bacon, salt
fish, potatoes, and other articles which we could conveniently use. Our
dinner was now nearly ready, and all the resources of the farm-house
were required to feed us. There were knives and forks enough for only a
small portion of our company; but as we were used to camping out, and
realized that “fingers were made before forks,” we had no difficulty in
filling our stomachs.
Jed had become very good-natured, for Faxon had explained to him
the particulars of the difficulty between the two divisions of the
battalion. He hoped the Toppleton boy would be whipped out, and he
would be willing to go down and help us do it. We did not need any
assistance of this kind; but, when he volunteered to convey our
provisions and stores down to Priam, we accepted his offer; but he
harnessed the colt’s mother for this service.
At one o’clock we took up the line of march. As we felt that we were
going to battle, Briscoe sent scouts ahead to warn us of the presence
of the enemy.